


The First Choice

by slightlytookish



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 04:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/pseuds/slightlytookish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of his sixth year, Remus Lupin is called into a meeting with Professor Dumbledore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Choice

Remus checked his watch; he was right on time for his meeting with Professor Dumbledore. He approached the gargoyle guarding the door and said, "Ice Mice."

The gargoyle leapt aside and Remus stepped onto the spiral staircase. As he travelled slowly upwards, he wondered what the headmaster wanted to discuss. During Remus' first two years at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had met regularly with him – usually in the Hospital Wing whilst he recovered after a full moon – to question him about his health and to see if anything else might be done to aid his transformations or to bring comfort afterwards, but those meetings had grown more infrequent after the start of Remus' third year.

Tonight Remus was fairly certain that he was not in trouble – if he were, the other Marauders surely would be in attendance as well, for they undoubtedly would be involved in some way – and besides, Dumbledore usually left it up to each Head of House to reprimand his or her students.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Remus knocked once on the gleaming oak door, which immediately opened to reveal Dumbledore studying one of the many silver instruments spinning on the tables.

"Ah, Remus," he said, straightening up with a kind smile. "Good evening."

"Good evening, sir," Remus replied. Behind him there was a rustle of feathers, and he turned to see a moulting, sickly-looking Fawkes clinging to his perch and looking much like he himself always felt just before the full moon.

"Another Burning Day approaches," Dumbledore said, gazing fondly at the creature before returning his attention to Remus. "Please sit down. Sherbet lemon?"

"No, thank you."

"Very well." Dumbledore unexpectedly turned to the portraits of the old headmasters and headmistresses lining the walls, many of whom looked rather drowsy. A few had just fallen asleep, and their gentle snores were interrupted by Dumbledore's voice. "I am terribly sorry, but would you mind vacating your portraits for the next half hour? I have a private matter I wish to discuss with Mr. Lupin."

There was a good deal of grumbling, but the headmasters and headmistresses slowly stirred and vanished beyond the edges of their frames. Dumbledore smiled pleasantly as he watched them go, and seemed not to notice their reluctance to leave. The last to go was Phineas Nigellus Black, who glared at Remus for a long moment before he finally disappeared. Remus hid a smile at his outrage. He would have to tell Sirius that he had managed to irritate his great-great-grandfather without saying a word. Sirius would be thrilled.

Once they were alone, Dumbledore turned to Remus again. "I expect you are wondering why I sent for you. I have debated with myself for some time now, wondering if I should discuss this matter with you, and at last I decided that I owe you an explanation."

Remus sat very still. He felt something cold and sick settle in the pit of his stomach and for the first time since Professor McGonagall informed him that the headmaster wanted to meet with him after the end-of-term feast, he sensed that whatever Dumbledore had to say would be distinctly unpleasant. "Professor," he said, clearing his throat anxiously. A faint line formed between his eyebrows. "Is something wrong? Have _I_ done something wrong?"

"No, Remus, certainly not," Dumbledore replied gently. Remus realised with surprise that the headmaster looked unhappy, even apologetic.

"I wanted to tell you," Dumbledore went on, "that you were my first choice for Head Boy."

Though his heart leapt suddenly at the thought – _he, Remus Lupin, Head Boy?_ – Dumbledore's use of the past tense had not escaped his notice. Remus nodded and waited for him to continue.

"I can think of no one better," Dumbledore said, "which is why it grieves me so much _not_ to choose you. But the Head Boy and the Head Girl must be available at all times. I know that there were times during the past two years when you were unable to perform some of your duties as prefect, entirely through no fault of your own, of course, since they happened to coincide with the full moon, or on days you spent recovering in the Hospital Wing." Here Dumbledore paused. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his eyes were sad, and Remus quickly turned his gaze to the floor. He couldn't bear to look at him just now.

"A prefect may go missing without attracting too much attention," Dumbledore continued, "but people will notice if the Head Boy regularly disappears. We have done a fine job of keeping your condition a secret, with only one unfortunate exception, and I would very much dislike putting you in any situation that might cause suspicion in your final year."

Remus nodded again. "I understand," he said softly, and he did. He was accustomed to disappointments, and this was certainly not the first time in his life that he faced exclusion because he was a werewolf. Hogwarts had been an exception, but Remus had always known that it could not last forever. At last he took a deep breath and looked up. "Thank you for telling me, Professor. I… it's good to know."

"I am very sorry, Remus," Dumbledore said.

Remus smiled faintly. "Have you decided who you will choose as Head Boy, sir?"

"No, not yet," Dumbledore admitted. "I expect it will take me most of the summer to decide." He suddenly turned to Remus, looking expectant. "Do you have a suggestion? I daresay you know the other prefects better than I do."

Remus frowned. He felt a bit uncomfortable, being asked to offer Dumbledore advice on whom he should choose as Head Boy after the conversation that had just transpired. And yet… "Must you name one of the existing prefects Head Boy?"

"It is the usual custom, but there is no rule," Dumbledore replied. He fixed Remus with an intent, questioning gaze. "Do you have someone else in mind?"

"Well," Remus said. "I was thinking of James Potter."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked. His eyes, Remus noticed, were starting to twinkle.

"He's changed since… since the incident with the Whomping Willow. He's grown up a bit." Remus grinned. "Maybe the responsibility will keep him out of trouble next term."

Dumbledore chuckled. "That is a hopeful thought," he said. "I shall certainly consider your suggestion. There are only so many bathroom explosions that one old headmaster can endure. Not to mention the extraordinary frequency that the students in Slytherin House break out in boils." His eyes were still twinkling merrily.

Remus nodded sympathetically. The other Marauders seemed to think that the best time to explode a toilet was when it was his turn to patrol the hallways. He was finding it more and more difficult to console Moaning Myrtle.

Their meeting soon drew to a close. "Good night, Remus," Dumbledore said. "I hope you have a safe journey home, and a pleasant summer."

"Good night, Professor," Remus replied. He had already reached the door and had his hand on the doorknob when the headmaster spoke again. "Remus?"

"Yes, sir?"

"In all my years as headmaster, I was never more pleased to offer any other student a place at Hogwarts. I am very glad that you are here, Remus. You have made me quite proud," Dumbledore said.

Remus flushed and ducked his head, feeling both pleased and a little embarrassed by the unexpected praise. "Thank you, sir," he said quietly. Despite the lingering sense of disappointment he felt after their conversation this evening, Dumbledore had given him an opportunity when few, if any, others would, and for that Remus would always be grateful.

With a last glance backwards Remus stepped through the door and onto the spiral staircase. The door closed softly behind him, and as the staircase slowly brought Remus back to the entrance by the gargoyle he realised with surprise that he was smiling. The summer stretched out before him – there would be visits with his friends, and time spent with his family – and soon he would be back at Hogwarts for his final year, and although he would not be Head Boy, he would still be a prefect. In all, Remus was happy.

And with a little luck, there would be no bathrooms explosions for him to deal with next term.


End file.
